


Helping Hands

by ami_ven



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: mcsheplets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4692431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can do it myself."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helping Hands

**Author's Note:**

> written for LJ community "mcsheplets" prompt #209 "busted"

“I can do it myself,” said John, scowling. He sat on their bed, barefoot, pants on but not fastened, t-shirt crumpled in the fingers that stuck out from the startlingly white cast on his arm.

“Yes, you can,” Rodney told him, evenly. “I have no doubt that you could, in fact, dress yourself without any help whatsoever, probably by overusing your non-broken arm and straining every muscle in your back, putting yourself through extra and completely unnecessary pain.”

“It— it doesn’t hurt that much,” John muttered, stubbornly, then sighed. “I just don’t like being helpless.”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “You’re not helpless, Sheppard,” he said. “You broke your left arm and you’re right-handed, so you’re still perfectly capable of punching things or shooting things or blowing things up, even with the cast slowing you down, and if we’re attacked in the next six weeks, I promise let you take your gun and rescue me.”

“Really?” said John, brightening a little, then asked, “Rescue you from what?”

Rodney ignored him. “But what you _are_ incapable of doing by yourself right now, apparently, is getting dressed and you’re just too stubborn to let me help.”

“It’s embarrassing, okay?” said John, waving his cast-covered arm in frustration. “Bad enough that I broke it _falling down the stairs_ and now we’re out of the off-world rotation until it heals, but I can’t even put on my own damn socks! I feel helpless and useless and stupid—”

“Hey,” Rodney interrupted sharply. “You fell trying to keep Simpson from face-planting down the stairs, which you _did_ , and it was just bad luck that you landed on that stack of equipment cases like you did. And did it ever occur to you that maybe somebody would _enjoy_ taking care of you for a little while?”

“I…”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” said Rodney. He pulled the t-shirt gently from John’s hand. “Look, Sheppard, this isn’t pity, this isn’t some burden I’m dealing with. I would do stuff like this for you when your arm _wasn’t_ broken, if I thought for a second you’d let me.”

“You what?” said John. “Why?”

“Because I care about you, idiot,” Rodney told him, fondly. “I get that you need to maintain your rugged manly image in front of everyone else, but I’m your…”

“Boyfriend?” John suggested.

Rodney flushed very faintly pink. “Yes, that. And I am in no doubt of your manliness, I promise. Now will you please shut up and let me help you with your socks?”

“I…” John began, then snorted a laugh. “I love you, Rodney,” he said, soft but firm. “You know that, right?”

Rodney smiled and leaned in to kiss him. “Yeah, I know.”

THE END


End file.
